


Two Physicists Walk Into A Bar

by bluegeekEM, The_Casual_Sounds (the_casual_cheesecake)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk (2008)
Genre: Behind the Scenes, Between the Scenes, Friendship, Gen, Minor Bruce Banner/Betty Ross (past), On the Run, Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic Available, Podfic Length: 1-1.5 Hours, Science, Science Bros, alternate first meeting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-07-31 05:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20109865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluegeekEM/pseuds/bluegeekEM, https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_casual_cheesecake/pseuds/The_Casual_Sounds
Summary: Bruce and Tony have known each other far longer than anyone but JARVIS has realized.





	Two Physicists Walk Into A Bar

[Podfic by The_Casual_Cheesecake download link](https://drive.google.com/open?id=1z7tK18mtVOT2OZI8ACsAGKAwXq9CxY1t)

[Streaming link](http://pod-together.parakaproductions.com/2019/Two%20Physicists%20Walk%20Into%20a%20Bar.mp3)

** ** **

“You’re late, Mr. Stark.”

Huh. Puzzled, Tony spun around in his chair to face Pepper. Usually he was tipped off to her arrival through the tapping of her no-doubt incredibly fashionable shoes on the floor as she marched up to herd him to whichever desperately boring work or social appointment had overtaken his calendar. He must have been deep into a tinkering haze to miss the opportunity to be conveniently elsewhere when she descended the stairs.

“Nah, there’s plenty of time,” he said, waving a hand over his desk. “And I still have a few modifications that I really need to- ”

“No, there isn’t and no you don’t.” 

Uh-oh. Pepper didn’t sound like she was in a negotiating mood. 

“JARVIS? Save Mr. Stark’s progress, please. He needs to leave now. In fact, he needed to leave forty-five minutes ago.”

JARVIS obediently indicated that he’d made the usual backups and then closed the projections Tony had been working with, causing Tony to push his chair away from the desk in horror at the betrayal.

“Hey! Whose side are you on?”

“Yours, sir,” came JARVIS’ smooth reply. “You gave me strict instructions to ensure that you make it to this particular engagement. You have now ignored seven reminders, five text-based alerts and two audible alarms, and even with the anticipated favorable wind conditions, you will be cutting it very close to your deadline.”

Tony humphed and turned back to his PA. “That can’t be right. You always build in a healthy cushion around these things, don’t you, Pepper? Because I’m right in the middle of a breakthrough here. Really cutting edge developments are happening right in front of-”

“There is no cushion in the world generous enough to manage you and your excuses, Mr. Stark,” Pepper interrupted. “Or would you rather I notify Professor Erlich that you’ll need to cancel?”

“No! No no no.” Tony cried, his arms waving. “You definitely can’t do that! Erlich is a legend! He’s brilliant, and even managed to inspire me when I was a rebellious fifteen year old college student with a giant chip on my shoulder.”

“So, what you’re telling me is that not much has changed since college, has it?” Pepper’s voice was dry, even in the face of Tony’s exuberance.

“Har har. I’m not fifteen any more, at the very least,” Tony replied. “I can’t back out on my commitment, even if it is talking at a bunch of undergrads.”

“Don’t you mean inspiring and educating honors-level physics and engineering students and offering your wisdom as someone who is successful in the field?”

Tony waved his hand in agreement and sighed dramatically. “Yeah, yeah. That.”

Pepper crossed her arms and raised a brow at him. “Then put away your toys and get in the car, Mr. Stark.”

Tony reluctantly pushed himself to his feet and turned towards the door. “I will do as you suggest, Miss Potts, but I feel the need to lodge a formal complaint at your use of the term ‘toys’ to describe several highly classified and industry-challenging designs.”

“Complaint noted and ignored Chop chop!”

*

“Meet you for dinner after my lecture?” Bruce spoke softly in an attempt to avoid notice from the tour guide.

Betty glanced away from whatever abstract sculpture they were supposed to be admiring and checked her watch. “Sounds good, but aren’t you a bit early?”

“Yeah, but you know how traffic is around here. I’d hate to be late, and it would be a good idea to review my notes beforehand.” 

Betty cocked her head at him and grinned. “And you really hate this tour.”

Bruce smiled back at her. “And I really hate this tour.”

Betty shook her head. “Alright, off with you. Tomorrow we’ll go to the Museum of Science before our flight. As a man who cannot leave his work at home, hopefully that will be a bit more your style.”

“Undoubtedly,” Bruce said before giving her a quick peck on the cheek. “And I’ll even try not to get us kicked out by correcting the exhibits when they oversimplify their subject matter!”

As he made his escape, he heard a soft, “I’ll believe it when I see it, Mr. Scientist.”

*

Bruce stopped by Professor Erlich’s office and spent a few minutes catching up with his former professor. Regardless of how many degrees Bruce had earned, he still felt like a fairly awkward undergrad wannabe-scientist when speaking with him. Although years had passed, Erlich was still the same energetic and formidable figure from Bruce’s memories, the only difference Bruce could identify was a fair amount more gray in the man’s hair.

“Given that this is to be my last year before I retreat into retirement and write scathing letters to the popular journals critiquing everyone’s research, I want to go out with a bang rather than a whimper,” Erlich said, while searching his desk for a copy of the lecture series brochure. “Really light a fire under the nether regions of these students and make sure we don’t lose them to the soft sciences or some such rot. A-hah!, got it, here.”

Very little had changed about the man. 

Bruce accepted the offered brochure and glanced over the list, eyebrows raising at some of the names listed under previous lecture dates before finding tonight’s lineup. Doctors Kamau and Ortega were in the first and second speaking positions, to Bruce’s satisfaction. They were both researchers whose work Bruce admired. Following them would be Bruce and then finishing up was someone just listed as “Guest lecturer.”

At Bruce’s inquiry, Erlich rubbed his hands together in quiet glee. “Wait and see, wait and see. This has been quite the coup, I will tell you, but I didn’t want to cause _that_ much of a stir by announcing ahead of time.” Erlich’s mouth quirked. “Plus, he’s not always the most reliable of celebrity guests, as it were.”

Bruce’s curiosity at Erlich’s choice of words was derailed by a sharp clap to his back. 

“Anyways,” Erlich said, “Head over to the lecture hall and settle in. I trust you remember how to get there, Banner?”

*

Dr. Erlich welcomed the students and faculty to the lecture series, commenting wryly at the “impressive turnout” in attendance to this “optional” department event, and then dove right into introducing the first guest. Bruce noted that both Kamau and Ortega had claimed seats up front, just now wondering if there were reserved seats for the guests he should have been looking for rather than retreating to his old familiar seat in the back corner. Ah well, too late now.

Halfway through Ortega’s time, Bruce heard a clamor and turned to see a dark-haired man wearing a gray suit with red sneakers and bright yellow sunglasses saunter through the lecture hall door without bothering to be subtle about his late entrance. The man waved at Ortega when she paused her speech, “Oh, do continue, don’t mind me. Love your work, by the way.”

Between the voice and the arrogance, Bruce had already figured out who the final speaker was, even before the man made his way over to Bruce’s side of the lecture hall.

Claiming a half hour of Tony Stark’s time to speak to a lecture hall full of physics students really _was_ a coup, Bruce presumed, looking down at the brochure still in his hand. He also supposed he should be grateful that he was slated for one of the middle speaking positions. If he had to try to maintain the students’ attention following a Stark-style uproar he suspected that he would fail spectacularly.

“Banner? Bruce Banner?”

Bruce flinched in surprise, turning to find Stark himself standing near him, practically vibrating with energy.

“Ummm, yes?”

Stark clambered over Bruce’s legs without even asking him to move and settled into the chair next to him.

“These seats are just as miserable as I remember them,” Stark commented. “Anyways, I read your latest article summarizing the potential applications for gamma radiation in future scientific research and treatments. Fascinating work, if you can carry it through to practical application.”

“I, ummm,” Bruce stammered. “Thank you?”

“We should talk more, I’d love to pick through your brain about a few of your theories.”

Bruce’s brain was still trying to catch up to _Tony Stark_ knowing who he was. He knew that Stark had a degree in some branch of physics, it was hard to ignore the fuss that was made over him in the alumni news, after all. 

And the regular news, he supposed. But he didn’t think their work had that much overlap…

“Perhaps, ummm, after the lectures?” Bruce whispered and gestured to the front of the room.

Bruce tried to pay attention to the rest of Ortega’s lecture, though it was difficult with the running commentary from beside him. Tony Stark must have been a massive pain in the ass to have as a classmate.

When it was Bruce’s turn to speak, he assumed that Stark would continue to provide a disruptive distraction in the back of the hall, but instead he was silent and intent on Bruce as he spoke of his academic journey and the research it led him to today. That intensity of focus was, in itself, a distraction, Bruce found, fiddling with his note cards more than was strictly necessary.

Throughout his talk and the question and answer session following, people continued to stream into the hall, soon filling up all the available seats and beginning to stand in the back, likely in violation of the maximum occupancy guidelines for the old building. 

Apparently, word of Tony Stark’s arrival had begun to spread.

When Bruce ceded the lecture stand to Stark, the other man proceeded to command the attention of everyone in the room for the next forty minutes in a high-energy and interactive talk that was engaging and often funny. He was sarcastic and sometimes rambling, but that didn’t stop everyone from staying until the very end for a round of questions and answers that exceeded the timeframe for the lecture series by at least another fifteen minutes before Dr. Erlich insisted that everyone get lost and “go study or something.”

Stark’s bodyguard ushered him out the side door of the hall before he could be mobbed by the lingering students and professors Bruce saw were already streaming towards him. As he crossed the campus to where he’d parked the rental, Bruce considered his brush with the infamous Tony Stark and how it would make for an interesting discussion over dinner with Betty, at the very least.

As he fumbled for the car keys, a sleek sports car pulled up behind him and Tony Stark’s face peered out at him. “Come have dinner with me, we’ll talk shop. There’s a pizza joint around the corner that is responsible for at least half of my questionable nutrition in college.”

“Paulie’s?” Bruce asked in surprise.

“That’s the one! Hop in.” Stark gestured to the passenger seat with his head.

“I can’t,” Bruce replied, with a small measure of regret. “I’ve already got plans.”

“Cancel them,” Stark replied, breezily.

“Can’t do that either,” Bruce said, shaking his head. “My girlfriend and I are taking the opportunity for a long weekend away, and ignoring her for work is not the recipe for a happy vacation, or relationship.”

“Why not? I do it all the time.” Tony said with a shrug.

Bruce pulled a face at him. Even he couldn’t escape the gossip reports of Stark’s various “relationships” and their sometimes-dramatic conclusions.

“Well, yes, I suppose that’s not a very convincing argument,” Stark admitted with a roll of his eyes. “Okay, fine, but I insist that we talk another time. Give me your contact info.”

Bruce rattled off his phone and email, which Stark didn’t write down anywhere, and then watched as he drove off with a squeal.

*

Frankly, Bruce expected that to be the end of it. He wasn’t likely to linger in the mind of the madcap billionaire for longer than it took him to disappear in the rearview mirror.

He was wrong.

*****

Tony set JARVIS to researching Bruce Banner, technically Dr. Robert Bruce Banner, possessor of multiple PhDs and a head of slightly unkempt curly hair. Upon seeing that the man was working his way through _yet another_ doctorate, he felt the urge to explain the phrase ‘overkill’ to him.

And even he could admit that when _Tony Stark_ was the one telling you to chill out, then you _definitely_ had a problem.

He read all the available biographical information, including the sealed files from Banner’s miserable early childhood, examined every thesis, and tracked down every published article he had ever written.

There were also plenty of criticisms of Banner’s proposals for harnessing and manipulating gamma radiation as the stuff of fairytales at best and dangerous idiocy at worst. Reading Banner’s carefully worded rebuttals was an utter delight, and Tony wondered how many others would recognize the furious subtext in those responses

Tony needed to get his hands all over Banner’s brain.

*

“So when can we get together and make sweet, sweet science?”

Bruce removed the phone from his ear and blinked down at it, baffled. If this was a student making a prank call to his office, this was one of the weirder ones.

“Banner? Doctor?” 

The voice on the other end sounded impatient, even at a distance.

Bruce brought the receiver back up. “Who is this?”

“Tony Stark,” came the reply with a distinct ‘you should have known this already’ tone. “Who were you expecting?”

Stark… was calling him at his office. As though he had a scheduled meeting every week at this time. With Tony Stark.

“Ummm, well, actually-”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s me and we’re talking now. So, let’s get back to the topic.”

Bruce didn’t realize that they’d _had_ a topic. “And that would be…?”

“Research, of course. Specifically yours. I want to pick your considerable brain.”

*****

In the beginning, it was almost like a test: Could Bruce keep up? Bruce suspected that if he couldn’t, Stark would lose interest quickly and their acquaintance would be brief.

Being the focus of Tony Stark’s attention was an experience not for the faint of heart _or_ mind. Talking with him could be more mentally draining than the entirety of Bruce’s last doctoral degree, though somehow exhilarating at the same time.

Even on topics that Stark conceded to Bruce’s greater expertise, he had a knack for asking all the right questions and absorbed the information Bruce generated with alarming ease.

The occasional phone calls to debate theory expanded into meetings in Bruce’s office at Culver and then evolved to occasional bickering over pizza, as well.

Bruce accepted an invitation to tour one of Stark Industries’ New York R&D labs. Even being restricted to touring the non-military contracted projects, Bruce had to marvel at the output they were capable of, with their seemingly endless resources and personnel. 

He also marveled at how very much of it Stark had a hand in, with the specifications of each and every Stark product stored away in his head.

Bruce tended to focus in on a problem, often to the exclusion of all other affairs, when he could.

Stark was capable of that single-minded dedication, for sure, especially once it came to the application stage of his tinkering. 

But when it came to refining his company’s technology? He was zealous about ensuring they were realizing the full potential of each and every product and then using that as a springboard for the next round of development. 

He was prone to flitting from one budding idea to the next, throwing up holographic projections into the air like fireworks and surrounding himself with his or Bruce’s current projects so he could examine and manipulate them from every angle.

It was exhilarating.

*

“You really should reconsider coming to work for Stark Industries.” Stark ended their now semi-regular phone call the same way he always did.

“Have you opened up a new BioScience division since last we spoke?” Bruce asked, tired of the game.

“Brucie, Brucie, Brucie,” Stark admonished. “The offer’s the same. Funding, staff, wealth, notoriety...”

Stark knew how much he hated that nickname.

“Then my answer’s the same. No thank you.”

“Are you going to let yourself decay at Culver for the rest of your career?” Stark paused for barely a moment. “Get it? A nuclear physicist? Decaying?”

Bruce groaned and rubbed at his eyes. “Culver is actually a renowned institution, Stark.”

“Doesn’t beat MIT. Or even Harvard, Doctor ‘I’ll Just Collect Degrees From All The Prominent Institutions Of Higher Learning.’”

Bruce tried to decide if he should be alarmed that he was beginning to identify the capital letters in a Stark rant.

“And actually, I’ve been offered an opportunity that will allow me to focus on my gamma research entirely, and continue to work with Betty. I’m planning on accepting.”

“Oh, do tell.” Stark sounded genuinely intrigued.

Bruce winced. “It’ll be a military-funded project under the oversight of Thaddeus Ross,” he confessed, and waited for the explosion.

It didn’t come. Instead, Stark’s next statement came in a calm and measured tone, which Bruce was beginning to learn could be even more dangerous. 

“So you’ll work for the United States government, the military, specifically, who will under pay and drastically undervalue you, just so you can cozy up to your girlfriend’s dad?”

“That’s not fair, Stark.” Bruce felt a glimmer of anger start to simmer in his gut.

“That’s what it looks like, Banner. Whatever happened to ‘I don’t want to develop weapons, Tony. I’m here to help people, Tony,’ that you spout when declining my offers?” The sing-song voice that Stark used to poorly mimic Bruce’s past statements grated.

“It’s not weapons development, Stark,” Bruce spat out. “I’ll be developing a treatment to prevent and treat radiation poisoning. A healthcare application.”

Stark snorted. “I know Ross, Banner, and trust me when I say that _everything_ has a military application to that man.”

Bruce took a deep breath and forced himself to answer calmly. Rationally. “The military needs healthcare treatment solutions too, you know.”

Stark’s voice was somber. “I am well aware.”

Bruce supposed that a nickname like The Merchant of Death didn’t come without some recognition of the application of one’s life’s work, even if Stark preferred to act as though he didn’t give it another thought once his weapons were out of R&D.

Silence filled the line between them for several long moments before Stark tried a different tactic, though Banner could tell that it was his way of backing off, at least a bit. 

“They will completely cripple your ability to publish. Cover you in red tape and NDAs, tell you it’s a matter of national security and keep you from submitting anything but the most innocuous and boring of articles. What happened to publish or perish?”

“I’m not seeking another tenured position, Stark. And I don’t think it’ll be quite that bad.”

Stark snorted audibly. 

“Even so,” Bruce continued before he could be interrupted, “At least I’ll be able to work on my passion project and potentially develop a new treatment that could drastically decrease the consequences of radiation exposure on the human body. That helps everybody, military and civilians alike.”

“Well, good luck, then,” Tony said, with obvious reluctance. “I hope you don’t perish, Doc.”

*****

“I think Ross and the military are going to pull my funding. I’ve made so much headway, there’s so much _potential_ here, and they’re gonna kill it anyways.” The handset creaked in Bruce’s white-knuckled grip. “They want physical results, not theoretical progress.”

Stark was quiet for a moment and Bruce could hear a soft beeping. “I’m gonna be on the east coast tomorrow for a few meetings. Let’s grab dinner and talk?”

Bruce sighed. “Yeah, sure. I’ve been working a lot of late nights, lately. I could use an evening off.”

“That’s the spirit. And we will definitely have spirits for this meeting, don’t you worry.”

“You know I don’t-”

“I know, I know. The spirits will be for me. We’ll get you an apple juice, or something. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

*

Bruce was thirty minutes and half of a pizza into his airing of grievances, complete with formulae and diagrams scrawled on the back of a paper placemat, before Stark pitched his now-familiar offer of funding and private sector R&D resources and recruitment power.

Bruce dropped his face into his crossed arms on the table. “I can’t,” he replied, his voice muffled. “I know that Stark Industries has divisions across the technology spectrum, but we both know that my work’s primary application, as far as your company is concerned, would be as a weapon. You can’t deny that.”

“You can place your stipulations in your contract, Banner. You’d have control and I’d make sure you had your own team of lawyers to represent your interests.”

“It’s too dangerous for that. And how would you even justify my presence and expense to your shareholders? There are too many ways that anything I develop could be misused, and once it leaves the lab, I’d have no control of where it goes.”

Stark smacked a hand down on the table, startling Bruce into sitting up. “And how is it any different with Ross and his military oversight? You think they’ve got nothing but compassionate objectives in mind, really? For a genius, you’re not too bright, doc.”

“Then you aren’t losing out on much then, are you?” Bruce snapped back.

They glared at each other for a moment before Bruce relented. “I’d have to start back at scratch again anyways. They certainly wouldn’t let me bring any of my notes or previous research with me.”

Stark shrugged. “If it hasn’t worked yet, would that be so bad? Maybe a fresh start will bring about a new discovery. Besides, if you can pull all that out of your head,” he gestured to the placemat, “Then I don’t think you’d be starting at square one.”

Bruce squinted down at the pen-marked paper. Well, shit, he’d probably broken about thirty military security regulations tonight.

Whoops.

“I’m on the trail of something, Stark. I know it. I just need more _time!_ If only I could convince them, show them something _tangible_ to prove that I am on the right track…”

Stark picked up a crayon from the little cup near the salt and pepper shakers and began to doodle on the placemat.

Bruce didn’t bother to stop him. Even if the man gave into his childish urges and drew rude pictures all over Bruce’s life’s work, he’d have to destroy the placemat anyways or face the wrath of General Ross should military secrets leak into the public eye due to Bruce’s carelessness. Something he would really like to avoid, if at all possible.

“Do you have anything waiting in the wings to show them?”

“Nothing they’re interested in seeing. Mostly I’ve got support for theories and new avenues of research to explore. Nothing I’m quite ready to apply to a practical experiment yet.”

“Sounds like you’re in a pickle, indeed. How much time do you have?”

“I have no idea.” Bruce took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “So far the project cancellation has just been implied, but I have an inspection with Ross in three days, so…”

“Well,” Tony said, standing up from the table and tossing cash onto the tray the waiter had left. “Good luck, Bruce. I truly do hope it works out for you.”

“Thanks.”

Tony tossed off a wave as he turned and walked away. “You know how to find me when you change your mind. See ya around, Doctor.”

“Good night, Mr. Stark.”

Bruce sighed, set his glasses back on his nose, and picked up the placemat, beginning to fold it up when something caught his eye. 

Stark’s scribbling, which Bruce had thought was the result of an overactive brain forced into idleness, was actually… notes? He’d circled a section of a formula there, and used shorthand to represent a reaction there, then over in the corner was-

Huh. 

_Huh._

Bruce needed to get back to the lab.

*****

“Banner, give me a call back, okay? I’ve been hearing a bunch of extremely interesting rumors coming out of Culver in the past twenty-four hours that I’d like you to elaborate on for me.”

*

“Bruce, buddy, I need you to answer your phone eventually. I’m getting tired of listening to your voicemail message.”

*

_To: Dr. Bruce Banner_  
From: Tony Stark  
Subject: Proof of life would be good

_Do I need to come out there?_

*

“Doctor, it’s been nearly a week with no word and I’m willing to acknowledge a tinge of worry. A whiff, if you will. Call me back.”

*

_To: Dr. Bruce Banner_  
From: Tony Stark  
Subject: So, funny story…

_Since you’ve been disinclined to establish contact, though my military spy assures me that you are alive and on the run, I thought I’d give you an update on my life, instead._

_Being moderately worried for my friend - you know, the one who was blown up and transformed into a giant green angry rhino of a man? And who hasn’t given me any sort of direct assurance that he’s okay? Well, I decided to pay a little visit to some of his old friends._

_Betty’s alright, by the way. She’s awake and recovering as expected._

_Dear Old Tad is also alright, though I’m less happy to report that news. He’s also madder than my Board of Directors after my last Christmas party. And not terribly thrilled to see me, as it just so happens. I might not have helped his blood pressure any with my visit, given that he looked apoplectic by the time I was done asking him about his motivations with the project and you._

_He did have ulterior motives. He thought he could somehow recreate Project Rebirth and create super soldiers again. Despite the fact that even my dear old dad couldn’t have come up with a replacement for the true Erskine serum that didn’t wreak havoc._

_Though I guess you’d know that better than anybody, right now._

_Anyways, the weather's fine, business is good, JARVIS says hi, he’s transcribing this email, by the way, because keyboards are ancient technology. I didn’t manage to give Ross a stroke, though I am definitely off the drinking buddy list._

_Let me know you’re okay, will you?_

_-T_

*

JARVIS notified Tony that Banner’s email account was accessed by someone in a library in Nelson, British Columbia.

Three weeks later, a postcard arrived.

_Thanks._

*****

JARVIS tracked sightings, updating Tony with military reports and the results of Tony’s own attempts to keep tabs on the man.

Banner was on the run, and clearly knew how to contact Tony if he were so inclined, so Tony didn’t use his full resources to hunt him down. No, he’d let the military continue to waste its money in their so-far futile attempts to track down their “asset,” as the Hulk was called in their reports. 

Sightings of Banner occurred in British Columbia, South Dakota, and Japan. Encounters with the Hulk, far more easily identified, occurred in British Columbia and Alberta, Idaho, North Dakota, and Columbia.

When JARVIS tracked down satellite imagery of the effects of Hulk ripping apart a mountain in Alaska before disappearing again, Tony asked him to investigate further, but there was… nothing. Other Hulk sightings typically had some sort of trackable precipitating event, typically someone trying to detain or harm Banner, leading to an incident. This time? Nothing.

For the first time since receiving the postcard, Tony felt a glimmer of worry.

*

A month after the Alaska sighting, Tony received another postcard. This one was both reassuring, given that there’d been no encounters with either Banner or the Hulk in that time, but also fucking annoying for it’s lack of purpose.

_How many physicists does it take to change a light bulb?_

“The fuck, Banner?”

The answer came a week later in the form of an email to his private address from an unknown source, something that normally shouldn’t be possible, though even Tony Stark couldn’t fully eliminate spam, much to his chagrin. 

JARVIS had flagged it for review, and as soon as Tony saw the subject line, he knew the sender.

_To: Tony Stark_  
From: Roberta Green  
Subject: Eleven 

_One to change the bulb…_

Tony rolled his eyes but didn’t restrain the laugh. 

_To: Roberta Green_  
From: Tony Stark  
Subject: And ten to co-author the paper 

_Not very original of you, Roberta._

_-T_

_To: Tony Stark:_  
From: Roberta Green  
Subject: Re: And ten to co-author the paper 

_The name or the joke?_

_-R_

_To: Roberta Green_  
From: Tony Stark  
Subject: Re: And ten to co-author the paper 

_Both._

_Glad to hear from you. Planning on staying in touch, this time? JARVIS and I are working to make these as secure as possible, by the way. As much as we can from our end, at least._

_-T_

_To: Tony Stark:_  
From: Roberta Green  
Subject: Re: And ten to co-author the paper 

_When I can, yes. And thank you._

_I’m laying low. I had some bad times recently, but I’m working on my control. I don’t have many other choices._

_-R_

_To: Roberta Green_  
From: Tony Stark  
Subject: Re: And ten to co-author the paper 

_You do, though. You can let me come get you and help work this out. I have tremendous resources and we can figure out a solution together._

_-T_

When two days passed without a response, Tony threw a wrench across the lab and watched as the bots scrambled to collect it.

Had he blown it and lost Banner completely?

*

Bruce reread the last email over and over.

He’d considered the offer.

He hadn’t dismissed it out of hand, at least. 

Accepting help from Tony Stark didn’t worry him per se. He was trusting the man to a moderate degree simply by communicating with him at all. Even moving around frequently and accessing the internet from locations away from where he was hiding out, it wouldn’t take long for a man with Stark’s resources and intellect to track him.

Thinking about his risk of discovery had Bruce’s heart rate increasing, ratcheting up a few beats each time he considered what it would mean to accept Stark’s offer and return to the US. He tried to breathe in slowly through his nose and out his mouth.

Stark didn’t even have any motivation to betray him, either. He was already a billionaire. The military needed him even more than he needed it, so there was no motivation to trade him for money or to secure a deal. In fact, Stark seemed to have enough of an authority complex that he’d probably get a kick out of hiding a man that the government wanted desperately to track down.

And so what would happen if he let Stark hide him away somewhere? He’d probably have access to a lab. Supplies and funding. But would he be able to get in contact with specialists and stay under the radar? Would he be able to track down leads on his own, or would Stark insist on keeping him locked away? 

And even with his gut instinct telling him that Stark could be trusted, even with Stark proving it so far, Bruce had been wrong before. Devastatingly wrong.

The heart rate monitor vibrated against Bruce’s wrist.

But he could probably return to the US. He wouldn’t be hungry or dirty more often than not. He could possibly even see Betty, if she could ever forgive him for-

The vibration increased in intensity and managed to snap Bruce out of his thought spiral in time to realize the oncoming signs of a panic attack.

He walked over to the sink and thrust both wrists under the cold tap, holding them there as he refocused on his breathing, visualizing releasing his anxiety with each breath.

_To: Tony Stark:_  
From: Roberta Green  
Subject: Re: And ten to co-author the paper 

_I can’t. Please understand. I don’t deny that you have resources and drive and for some reason a willingness to help me figure out the clusterfuck that is my life. But I can’t go back. I just need to be away from everyone for now. _

_Besides, you aren’t exactly low-profile. You also aren’t a biochemist, and while I am sure you could probably read up on it overnight and write a thesis in the morning, recruiting others into research on my “condition” will draw notice._

_One thing you can do for me, something I’d appreciate, is to check on Tad’s daughter for me. Make sure she’s… okay, I guess? She hasn’t answered my email, and while I certainly couldn’t blame her for hating me, I just need to know she’s safe. Healthy._

_Anything._

_-R_

_To: Roberta Green_  
From: Tony Stark  
Subject: Re: And ten to co-author the paper 

_I’ve been keeping tabs on her. She’s fully recovered and working furiously on the remnants of your joint research, even though the program’s been closed and blacklisted. She’s estranged from her father, won’t even take his calls, or so I hear. And she’s been trying to find you. I don’t think she’s received your emails, or else she would have responded. You should try again._

_-T_

_To: Tony Stark:_  
From: Roberta Green  
Subject: Re: And ten to co-author the paper 

_No. Thank you for checking on her. I needed to know that she’s safe. And I need to stay away from her to keep her that way._

_I’ll be out of contact for a while. I’m trying something to help me learn calm and control. I don’t know how often I’ll be able to access a computer, but I’ll write when I can._

_-R_

*

The emails were infrequent, sometimes going months between contact. Banner’s chronicled a search for a cure that he didn’t know was even possible, as well as attempts to regain control over his body and mind.

Tony’s emails were a mixture of caffeine and adrenaline-fueled ramblings on his latest creations and interspersed with what little advice he could offer, updates on the military’s hunt for the Hulk, and, when requested, updates on “Tad’s daughter”. 

Each one also contained the same offer.

_My jet’s always on standby and the Stark empire has more than one bunker awaiting just the right fugitive from the government._

*****

The news of Tony Stark’s kidnapping reached far and wide, and Bruce followed the reports that provided no new clues and slowly started to dwindle in frequency as the months passed.

Bruce sent emails, took risks to monitor as many news sources as he could, and once, while on a research expedition to Africa, even risked a phone call to Stark’s private line.

“I’m sorry, Doctor Banner,” JARVIS said in response to Bruce’s questions. “I regret to inform you that there has been no new information on the whereabouts of Mr. Stark.”

Bruce squeezed his eyes shut and took several deep breaths, working hard to maintain a bubble of calm. 

“Can I help you, Doctor Banner? I will continue to honor any offers of assistance made by Mr. Stark.”

“No,” Bruce whispered. “No. But thank you, JARVIS.”

“Of course, sir.”

Until now, Bruce hadn’t realized how much he’d relied on his and Tony’s email correspondence to offer some sliver of normalcy to Bruce’s otherwise somewhat wretched existence.

Once again, fucking great timing, Banner.

*

When news of Stark’s rescue reached Bruce, he was almost afraid that he’d have an incident. He managed to avert that disaster, but it was the first time the Hulk could have appeared for a _good_ reason.

The news that Stark Industries was pulling out of the weapons-development business came as another surprise entirely. What the hell had happened to Tony in those three months that had prompted this reaction, rather than a revenge-fueled _increase_ in production?

Bruce’s emails to Tony went unanswered initially, though “Roberta Green” did receive a message from JARVIS notifying him of Stark’s return to Malibu for recuperation.

Bruce waited impatiently for a response from Tony, to no avail. Finally, he sent another postcard.

_I now have a better appreciation for a proof of life message._

This, finally, got him a response.

_To: Roberta Green_  
From: Tony Stark  
Subject: Sorry 

_Fucking sucks, doesn’t it?_

_-T_

Despite the tone of the email, Bruce felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

_To: Tony Stark_  
From: Roberta Green  
Subject: Re: Sorry 

_I’m sorry. Really._

_-R_

_To: Roberta Green_  
From: Tony Stark  
Subject: Re: Sorry 

_Doesn’t matter. _

_I wasn’t leaving you out of the loop on purpose anyways, Bertie dear. I’ve been busy recovering from desert cave heart surgery, developing massive advancements in engineering and biomedical technology, and a fairly unpleasant sunburn._

_How’ve you been?_

_-T_

Bruce... didn’t even know what to do with that.

_To: Tony Stark_  
From: Roberta Green  
Subject: Re: Sorry 

_Can I please have a Stark to English translation, please? _

_And I’m fine._

_-R_

_To: Roberta Green_  
From: Tony Stark  
Subject: Re: Sorry 

_Fine can have a number of definitions. I could have answered your email with “fine” but I didn’t. Details, Bertie._

_-T_

_To: Tony Stark_  
From: Roberta Green  
Subject: Re: Sorry 

_I’ll show you mine if you show me yours._

_-R_

_To: Roberta Green_  
From: Tony Stark  
Subject: Re: Sorry 

_Hot damn, I’ve been waiting for you to ask that for YEARS. _

_Please note that I attempted to include an emoticon of a penis, but JARVIS refused._

_But fine, I’ll start. Sit back and grab a beer, Bertie, because this is going to take a while…_

And Tony was not kidding. It did take a while and he even wished he had a beer. He also wished he had the ability to examine Tony himself, and view his x-rays. And maybe a CT scan. An MRI would be out of the question, of course. 

And then the chance to examine the miraculous machine that was keeping him alive? He and Tony could be up for days talking about that little miracle.

Bruce had never thought of the man as vulnerable before, but now the image wouldn't leave his head. It was a strange thing to experience, that revolution of perspective. 

Something tight in Bruce’s chest hurt at the thought of Tony in Malibu, as alone as Bruce was after the Hulk, except for JARVIS. And thanks to Hulk, Bruce hadn’t had any true physical injuries to recover from, whereas Tony... 

Bruce shook his head and dragged his mind back to reality, swallowing around the lump in his throat and breathing deliberately. Fat lot of good he could do from here.

Useless again, Banner. Not much has changed, has it?

Though, it didn’t _have_ to be that way, did it?

_To: Tony Stark_  
From: Roberta Green  
Subject: Re: Sorry 

_Do you want me to join you in Malibu? I don’t know how much help I can be, since this is cutting edge technology and I’ve been out of the game for a few years, but if you want me, I’ll come._

_-R_

_To: Roberta Green_  
From: Tony Stark  
Subject: Re: Sorry 

_That means a lot, Roberta. And believe me, I would love to take you up on your offer, but things are a little intense up here these days, and I don’t want to risk blowing your cover. I’ve got Pepper, Rhodey, and Obie here helping me weather the storm, so I’ll be fine._

_-T_

_To: Tony Stark_  
From: Roberta Green  
Subject: Re: Sorry 

_As you mentioned, “fine” can have a number of definitions. Keep me in the loop._

_-R_

*

After everything had gone down with Stane, the Iron Man and Iron Monger armor, and Stark Industries, Bruce did receive another email from Tony, even before he’d had to try and drag it out of him electronically. Given the rambling nature of the narration, it was more obvious than usual that JARVIS had transcribed Tony’s dictation and Tony had refused to let the AI edit for clarity. The tone alternated between puffed-chest bravado in some sections and raw, aching betrayal in others.

Bruce wondered if Tony had known how much the email would reveal to him. If it was a deliberate act of trust.

*

Tucked into the corner table of a hotel bar with his laptop and sipping the soda that gave him the excuse to mooch the wifi, Bruce downloaded the file JARVIS had sent to “Roberta” and watched as Tony faced down a collection of reporters. Tony had already told Bruce about the battle, so why did-

“I am Iron Man.”

Bruce’s jaw dropped. He double checked the broadcast. He wasn’t watching live, after all, so there was a chance that someone had doctored the sound, but no. Clips and transcripts, reports and rumors were splashed all over the internet, confirming what Tony had announced to the entire world.

Oh, for the love of-

Bruce took a risk and “borrowed” a phone card from an inattentive tourist and placed a call from the hotel lobby to Tony’s private line. His heart skipped as Tony answered.

“Brazil? Must be Brucie, buddy!”

God, it was good to hear that voice. “You stupid, brilliant, reckless, son of a bitch.” 

Tony laughed, loud and long. “Like you said, Brucie, I’m not exactly a low-profile kinda guy.”

*****

Contact over the next few months was somewhat more regular, as Tony raved about the modifications he was making to his suit, the success in the new direction he was taking Stark Industries, and tales of Tony’s exploits as a superhero.

Bruce could hardly wrap his head around the fact that his friend had acquired that lofty title, and coming from a guy that occasionally turned big, green, and angry, that was really saying something.

Bruce himself had less exciting news to share, but he did reveal the progress in avoiding incidents, and successes and failures in his search for a cure for his “condition.”

He didn’t immediately worry when, around month three, Tony’s emails became less detailed, the tone shifting to be increasingly manic and desperate at some times and bordering on melancholy at others. Plenty of people dealt with trauma in a variety of ways, and sometimes it didn’t manifest until they were “safe.” And despite Tony’s new superhero gig and his determination to remove Stark weaponry from the black market, how much safer can you get than being encased in a suit of space-age flying armor?

*****

_To: Roberta Green_  
From: Tony Stark  
Subject: Lend me your brain

_Know anything about palladium?_

_-T_

_To: Tony Stark_  
From: Roberta Green  
Subject: Re: Lend me your brain 

_I know it has a variety of practical applications, most importantly as the power source for the device that is currently keeping you both alive and reckless._

_What’s going on?_

_-R_

_To: Roberta Green_  
From: Tony Stark  
Subject: Re: Lend me your brain 

_Oh nothing much, except that it’s been seeping into my bloodstream and killing me slowly, nbd. Though before too much longer I might not be either of the things that you’ve accused me of._

_Don’t worry, I’ve included you in my will._

_-T_

Bruce had to take a number of deep breaths before he could respond. Palladium-poisoning shouldn’t be- Well, it doesn’t really matter what _shouldn’t_ be possible. No one else that Bruce knew of had a device of that magnitude implanted in their body that was powered by the substance, so, once again, Tony Stark was blazing a new trail in the scientific world.

Damnit.

*

Unable to sleep that night and wanting to offer some solution more effective long-term than a series of supplements that Tony had already known about, Bruce focused again on the palladium problem. He considered and discarded numerous potential treatments until his head spun. Just before slipping into sleep, a thought finally occurred that snapped him wide awake again.

Lithium dioxide wouldn’t cure the poison, but it might help buy them a little time if Tony’s condition progressed to a critical point. Bruce turned and scrambled for a pen. He’d have to contact Stark as soon as possible, and it would give him a jumping off point to developing a more long-term solution-

A dog yelped out in the street and all the hairs on Bruce’s body stood at attention. He listened carefully, but didn’t hear anything beyond the soft chime of his watch warning him that his heart rate was rising.

Still, he knew something was very wrong.

*

After escaping the latest attempt to apprehend him and recovering from his inevitable transformation, Bruce knew he couldn’t keep this up forever.

He had to return to the U.S., return to Culver and try to recover what he could of his research. 

And that was the scariest fucking decision he’d made in months.

*

After a near-suspiciously uneventful journey north and through US Customs, Bruce caught sight of a headline in an abandoned newspaper.

_Iron Man: Superhero turned Super Menace?_

After reading the article covering an attack at the Grand Prix and increasingly erratic behavior from both Tony Stark and Iron Man and the various editorials dedicated to lambasting Tony, Bruce grabbed his hair and tugged. Hard.

Then he found a phone and placed a call, hoping Tony would answer.

“Yo.”

“Tony! Thank goodness. What the hell is going on?”

There was a short pause before Tony answered. “Hey, babe, I’m fine. It’s good to hear from you.”

What the-?

“Yeah, me too.” Tony’s voice was casual and distracted.

Had Tony actually lost his mind as the paper had implied? Was it a side effect of the palladium poisoning? And was that another voice Bruce heard in the background? What the hell was going on?

“Hey, I’m kind of in the middle of a meeting and I’m hosting a _very_ uninvited guest who’s probably a bit ticked that I broke out of house arrest and ignored his no contract with the outside world rule, but let’s not talk about that right now. We need to catch up soon. Where are you?”

Again, Bruce could hear the muffled sound of a vaguely irritated voice in the background - asking Tony about breaking a perimeter? - and momentarily forgot about his own recent escape from capture.

‘Uhhh. Texas, actually. Just crossed the border. Are you okay?”

“Oh, that’s nice. Need a ride? I can’t bring you out here right now, things are a bit… crowded at the moment, JARVIS can make sure you get somewhere suitable and in style, if you’d like.”

“I’m fine, Tony. Forget about me for a minute. What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m good, sweetcheeks, really. Just doing the work of eleven physicists, actually, you know how it is.”

Was that supposed to be some sort of Tony Stark “I’m safe” code? 

“Anyways,” Tony continued, “If you’re sure you’re all set, I’ve got a particle accelerator that I built in the basement that I need to get up and running, so- Hey! Give that back! Agent-”

And then the connection broke.

Bruce stared at the phone for a moment, considering. Tony hadn’t sounded particularly stressed, and even at the end there he was impatient rather than scared…

Wait. Had Tony said he had a _particle accelerator_ in his basement?

At the rate Bruce was pulling at his hair, it was a wonder he wasn’t bald yet.

Okay. Okay. Tony was probably fine. And it’s not like Bruce could be of much use to him at the moment anyways, since adding the Hulk to the mixture didn’t typically _improve_ a situation.

He would have to trust that Tony could take care of himself.

*

Tony could _not_ take care of himself.

Though, to be fair, recent recent events would imply that Bruce couldn't either.

*

When Bruce retrieved the parcel from where JARVIS instructions had directed him, it contained a Starkphone, a wad of cash, and new identification.

It also contained a note.

_It’s secure. Call me._

Tony answered on the first ring.“Glad to hear you’re alive. Sounds like you had a bit of excitement lately.”

Bruce snorted. “I could say the same for you.”

Silence stretched for a moment. Where did they even start?

“So,” Bruce tried. “You built a particle accelerator in your basement?”

“Hah!” Tony crowed. “I win! I bet JARVIS you’d ask about that within five minutes.”

“Yeah, well, normal mad scientists just grow weed in their basement, Tony.” 

“I used to do that, too,” came Tony’s reply. “Also, hearing you comment on mad scientists is really-” 

“Don’t fucking say it.”

*

From end-stage palladium poisoning to senate hearings to the resurrection of family secrets, with a sprinkling of secret agencies and fallout with two of his closest friends, and Tony could say wholeheartedly that he’d had a shitty, shitty week.

And then he heard about how Bruce had been spending _his_ time.

“Fuck.” Tony breathed.

“Yeah,” Bruce replied.

“So there are Hulk-shaped dents littered across Harlem?”

“Tony,” Bruce groaned.

“Hey, hey, hey! I’m not judging. Iron Man and War Machine had a similar effect on parts of California, so maybe it’s a superhero thing.”

“The Hulk is not a superhero, Tony, and risk to the public combined with incalculable property damage seems more like a super_villain_ sort of move.”

“Hmmmm,” Tony replied. “Maybe we should ask your other half what he thinks.”

“Tony-”

“Fine, fine. We’ll debate that later. I really wish you’d just come hang out with me in Malibu for a while,” Tony said with a whine. “I’ll be bicoastal soon while I oversee a few projects in New York and I _know_ I won’t be able to convince you to join me there.”

“You’re right about that,” Bruce replied. “New York and I aren’t getting along right now, what with the large-scale destruction, and all.”

“Buzzkill.”

*****

“So, did you hear about the Space Vikings shooting up the desert stuff from last year? Because apparently government is still trying to break open portals in the space-time continuum.”

Bruce hummed, distractedly, balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder. “Isn’t that a Doctor Who thing?”

“Maybe. Or Star Trek,” Tony mused. “Anyways, they’ve got a Jane Foster working on the project. I’ve read some of her work. Seems like she’s equal parts genius and hyper-focused mad scientist.”

“Foster?” Bruce put aside the samples he’d been preparing to send off to one of Stark’s labs. “She good, Tony. I mean _really_ good. “I’ve even considered trying to ask her to look at a few of my ideas on the Other Guy. Our fields don’t really overlap, but if she’s opening portals to other worlds, who knows what else might be out there for me to consider?”

“Yeah? Tell me more.”

*

“Tony, I need a favor.” Bruce realized that he probably should have announced himself. Or said hello.

Tony was, as usual, unfazed. “You’ve got it, Big Guy. I can have the jet there in a matter of hours. Where is ‘there,’ actually?”

“What are you-? No. Not for me,” Bruce reassured. “What I mean is, I need another Stark Foundation type favor.”

“I see.” 

Did Tony sound… disappointed? Bruce hoped it was the connection and not a sign that Tony was feeling like Bruce was taking advantage of his generosity. It was fairly soon after he’d asked Stark to help establish that library in-

Tony cut off Bruce’s train of thought before it could run off the tracks. “The Foundation has been looking for a new venture, actually. Whaddaya got?”

“A school. Specifically one that won’t exclude girls from learning. And teachers, supplies… the works.” Bruce could feel his excitement ratcheting up, though thanks to his progress at self-control, it occurred without an answering rise in his heart rate

“Sounds promising,” Tony said.

“It is! Tony, I can’t even begin to tell you. These kids have such promise, and their minds are just waiting for a chance to-”

“Alright, alright, I’m convinced, Bruce. I’ll talk to Pepper and the Foundation board this week. Send me all the information you have, in proposal form, if you can, and we’ll continue the ‘Bruce Banner Yoga and Humanitarian Efforts World Tour.’”

*

“Pakistan? I thought you were heading to India? Ow!” Tony spit out a curse as he shook his hand and started blowing on his burned fingertips. “I’m fine!”

Bruce could hear JARVIS in the background gently berating Tony for ignoring his multiple warnings about the new alloy sample being still too hot to handle.

“I’m trying,” he replied. “But travel has gotten a bit more challenging since that government official was found skewered by an arrow on top of a _lot_ of incriminating evidence of his misconduct.”

“Did you say an _arrow_?” Tony asked.

“Yes. Yes I did.”

*****

“Are you here to kill me, Ms. Romanoff? Because that’s not going to work out… for everyone.”

“No, no, of course not. I’m here on behalf of SHIELD.”

*

The files that Agent had brought for Tony to review were all potentially interesting, but the one that caught Tony’s immediate attention was that of Bruce in his Hulk form, caught in battle during one of Ross’ multiple attempts to apprehend him. He’d seen this footage before, of course, having collected everything JARVIS could get his figurative hands on, but it was still a bit astonishing to be confronted with the reality of what Bruce went through.

And if SHIELD really thought they could recruit Banner for the formerly-defunct Initiative? 

Well, anything that would bring Bruce out of hiding might be worth it for Tony to consider.

*

Watching Tony strut around the helicarrier bridge with his _Stark_ness dialed up to eleven was an experience.

One that Bruce was apparently alone in appreciating.

“When did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?” Maria Hill’s expression was flat, but Bruce still suspected that she had very little patience for Tony’s antics.

“Last night.” 

Damn it was good to see him in action. Stark’s irreverence and lack of intimidation in the face of SHIELD’s resources made Bruce think that he might just escape this crisis without complete and utter disaster. 

Tony approached Bruce and held out his hand. “Good to see you again, Doctor Banner.”

Bruce returned the handshake with a brief roll of his eyes at the formality. “Mr. Stark.”

Colonel Fury approached from behind Bruce, staring at Stark intensely. “You two know each other?”

“Oh yeah,” Tony replied. “I’m a huge fan of the way he loses control and turns into an enormous green rage monster.”

Fury growled, “Stark-”

“But actually,” Tony continued softly, catching Bruce’s eye, “Bruce and I go way back.”

Fury looked fairly annoyed at that answer, though whether it was because he disapproved of their friendship or because he was annoyed that he hadn’t known about it, Bruce couldn’t begin to guess.

Tony, apparently bored of antagonizing his audience, turned to Bruce. “Shall we play, Doctor?”

More than ready to escape the tension in the room, Bruce gestured to the hallway. “This way, Tony.”

*

The SHIELD lab Bruce shared with Tony felt positively space-age compared to what he had access to, most of the time. Bruce looked over at Tony working at the table next to his and wondered if Tony, conversely, felt like he’d been kicked down a few notches from the Stark-level R&D labs.

Which, incidentally, made it interesting that SHIELD was just bringing Tony into the fold now, something Bruce would have to consider once they had the Loki issue resolved.

They fell into a well-integrated unit even more easily than Bruce would have imagined, sending readings and scan proposals onto each other’s work screens and incorporating data efficiently. They’d worked through problems and experiments over the phone enough, now, that Bruce was accustomed to Tony’s murmurs as he worked, from cajoling the numbers to perform as he wished to banishing a failed scan from the screen, and even the occasional humming of a song bouncing around his brain.

What he wasn’t used to, the things that were pulling Bruce’s attention away from his work at intervals, were the visual distractions that Tony provided. He tapped his fingers casually against the glow of the arc reactor as he considered the screens in front of him. He bounced from screen to screen, occasionally throwing in a shuffle of his feet in time to whatever music he was humming. He’d even packed snacks, apparently, tossing a protein bar Bruce’s way and plying him with dried blueberries at intervals.

This was an experience that Bruce had never expected to have since the Other Guy had shown up. He couldn’t help but think, however, of the many times Tony had offered him this opportunity while he’d been on the run. And how often Bruce had turned him down.

Bruce only realized he was staring, hunched over his screen with his fingers on his mouth, when Tony looked up at him with a smirk. 

"Like what you see, Doc?" 

Bruce rolled his eyes but smiled, a rare, genuine smile that almost felt strange on his lips, and decided to play along. "Now that you've gotten me into the lab, Tony, is it everything you’ve dreamed about?"

Tony burst out laughing. "Oh, it is that and more Doctor, though my dreams will only truly be realized when I can lure you out to my personal lab.”

“I that so? Sounds promising.”

“Oh, you haven’t made me any promises yet, Doc, but I hope you will." Tony cocked his head at Bruce. “Once we prove that you can work and play nice with others, I plan to convince you to stick around.”

Bruce grimaced. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Tony.”

“I believe in you, Big Guy. You will, too.” 

They looked at each other across the table for several moments until Bruce, feeling like the world's most unwilling staring-contest contender, shook his head and huffed out a laugh. 

“Maybe.” He allowed.

Tony smiled in approval and his hand lifted into Bruce’s peripheral vision, "Blueberry?"

*

As Bruce had suspected when he’d first stepped aboard the helicarrier, it _was_ a complete and utter disaster.

Somehow, it mostly worked out anyways.

*

Tony slid into his car after their little bon voyage party in the park, and Bruce joined him moments later.

“Where to, Big Guy?”

“I’ll let you pick.”

“Is that a promise?”

“It is.”

“The lab awaits, then.”

Tony could hear Bruce’s laugh over the rev of the engine.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes: Being able to create this work with the_casual_cheesecake was completely unexpected and SO SO SO much fun. I also want to announce that the_casual_cheesecake deserves a round of applause for doing triple duty - they contributed to the written work, did the beta read with a very keen eye, and created podfic!
> 
> Podficcer's Notes: This has been an amazing experience, Em has been an absolute joy to work with and has written a fic that i had tons of fun recording so kudos to them! 
> 
> Music and effects credit for the podfic:  
\- Alan Silvestri's "Hellicarrier"and "Red Ledger from The Avengers  
_ Patrick Doyle's "Thor" theme  
_ Ramin Djawadi's "Trinkets to kill a Prince" from Iron man  
_ Craig Armstrong's "Hulk" main theme  
_ Patrik Pietschmann's piano cover of "The Avenger's main theme"  
_ Various ambient sounds from freesound.com and the lovely Dr_Fumbles_McStupid's collection


End file.
